


A Winchester Tradition

by seaavery1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cannon Divergence, Christmas Fluff, Feels, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaavery1/pseuds/seaavery1
Summary: It was a Christmas tradition that started ten years ago, but due to their current loses, and the grief that hung over them, would they be able to continue the tradition for another year?





	A Winchester Tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gluedwithgold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluedwithgold/gifts).



> This is my gift for the SPN Secret Santa exchange. I got gluedwithgold. I hope you like this fluffy little Christmas fic. This is cannon divergent, there is no Jack in this fic. Also, this is my first time writing from Sam's point of view, so I hope I did a good job. Merry Christmas! :)

It all started during the year Dean was going to Hell. Just some little gas station goodies exchanged in an attempt at some semblance of Christmas normalcy. Sam still kept that skin mag hidden away in his keepsake box that he didn’t tell anyone about. It may seem weird to some to keep that kind of thing amongst retirement home brochures and pictures of beaches he hoped to one-day visit, but it was a piece of history that he wanted to remember. It was one of those rare good memories that he cherished.

 

Sam never thought the Christmas gift exchange would continue. It was just a one-time “Dean’s last Christmas” kind of thing and Sam still had his misgivings about holiday celebrations. But then Dean miraculously came back from Hell and it seemed like the most natural thing to do. It was a tense time and Sam was still riddled with guilt over the secret he was keeping from his older brother. Drinking demon blood was something he was sure Dean would never understand and he had no idea how he could even begin to explain it to him.

 

Dean had finally told Sam all about his time in Hell and it nearly shattered Sam’s heart. His strong brother, Sam’s protector, torn to shreds by guilt and unimaginable horrors. He wished he knew how to take that guilt away. He wished he knew how to put his brother’s mind at ease. But he didn’t seem to have the right words, so when Christmas time rolled around he found himself staring at a shelf of gas stations delights trying to decide which one would work. He settled on a Hostess Cherry Mini Fruit Pie, two of them actually. He smiled as he paid for them and an _Enquirer_ for wrapping paper.

 

They were staying in a dingy old motel in Boise, Idaho, working on taking out a nearby vamp nest. Dean had gone out to get a drink, something he had been doing more and more of, and Sam busied himself wrapping up the tasty treats. He smiled to himself when he looked at the makeshift present and set it down on the pillow of Dean’s bed.

 

Dean had returned a little after one, a little tipsy and a lot jovial. His face broke out into a wide grin when he saw the present sitting on the pillow. He let out a little chuckle, reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his own little newspaper wrapped gift. Sam quickly smiled, covering up the tears he felt threatening to come. They both opened their gifts quickly, Dean letting out an “Awesome!” when he opened his. Sam’s gift was a cheap pair of earbuds, so he could listen to his “crappy college music,” as Dean so eloquently put it, while they were driving over the backroads across the country.

 

Thus begun a nearly ten-year tradition they had. Each year, no matter what situation they were in, no matter how far apart or close together they were, they never seemed to forget. Even when they had thought they had lost everything. It didn’t matter. They always seemed to find themselves in a gas station buying each other little trinkets.

 

Every gift would find its way into Sam’s little keepsake box. The air freshener in the shape of an Angel that he still hadn’t taken out of the container. The pack of cards that Dean instructed him were to be used to get better at the tables for an upcoming trip to Vegas. The other skin mag that rested beneath the first one. The wrapper from some granola bar. Every single piece of newspaper that was used to wrap the gifts. All of it. Every silly little thing that would’ve meant nothing to other people, but meant the world to him.

 

There were years that the gifts were late or harder to give. Like the year Sam lost his soul. That year the gift didn’t come till after the new year when Sam was mostly intact. Dean went overboard that year, buying Sam granola bars, drinks, another set of earbuds, ten scratchers, and some beanie that he found at a little gas station gift shop in Minnesota.

 

Then there was the time Sam almost refused to get Dean a gift. It was another late one and it was right after he had found out about Gadreel possessing him. He had felt so hurt. So betrayed. Dean had already given him a gift; a compass. Sam knew what the message behind that gift probably was, but he didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to have anything to do with it. Dean had looked hurt when he realized there was no return gift, but he quickly covered it up.

 

But then one day, about a month into the new year, Sam found himself staring at a frozen Marie Calendar’s Chocolate Silk pie. He grabbed it, some newspaper, and bought it before he could change his mind. Dean had nearly cried when he opened it.

 

It didn’t matter if it was late. It didn’t matter if they were angry, felt betrayed, were alone, those gifts always found their way into their lives.

 

But this year? This year Sam had resigned himself to the fact that there would be no gifts. No newspaper wrapped trinkets. Their mom was gone, again. Cas was gone. Even Crowley, as evil as he was, was a loss to them. They were so alone and Sam was watching as his brother sank deeper and deeper into grief. So deep that he didn’t believe in anything anymore.

 

Sam caught himself eyeing gifts at various gas stations they would stop at, his hands even picking up several things only to quickly put them back again. He would open up his keepsake box, running his hands over gifts of years past, his heart aching slightly, and then he would quickly put the box away. He would have to let go of that tradition he held so dear and hope that maybe some year it would come back.

 

***

 

Christmas was about a week away and Dean and Sam were in Arizona working on a Rugaru case. Dean was still shrouded in grief, the rare smile not even coming close to reaching his eyes, and Sam had run out of ways to try and cheer him up and was losing his ability to cover up his own deep sorrow.

 

They were staying at some little rundown motel off the beaten path, the kind that charged by the hour. It ranked as one of the worst that they had stayed in over the years and that was saying something. Every room had the same seventies style wallpaper with faded oranges and weird circles. There were some old, dusty stockings adorning the door of each room and Sam felt a little shot of sadness when he saw them. Dean didn’t seem to notice or care.

 

Sam had gone out to get some air, maybe pick up something somewhat edible, leaving Dean laying on his bed flipping through the selection of adult entertainment the television offered. Sam stopped at a local Italian eatery, ordering a family size spaghetti and meatball dinner, some garlic bread, and two slices of tiramisu. He shrugged at the bag of takeout, hoping it could somehow bring a smile to Dean’s face.

 

On the way back to the motel, Sam caught himself pulling over at a local Kwik-E-Mart. He tried to shrug it off as just needing some coffee, maybe some water or even a beer, but he knew what he was really doing.

 

Sam wandered the aisles, searching for something fun, maybe light, cheesy, full of empty calories. He picked up several sweet goodies, only to put them back. He paused at the skin mags, but then shook his head. He thought about maybe some oil for the car, or windshield wiper fluid, but even that seemed wrong. It shouldn’t be so hard. The actual gift itself had never really matter that much before, it was more the ritual. But this time it felt different.

 

Sam was about to give-up when he saw it. It was silly. Cheesy, almost. But he smiled when he picked up the DVD copy of the first season of _Dr. Sexy M.D._ Sam grabbed a newspaper to wrap it in, a couple of bottles of water, some coffee and said a silent wish that this would bring some joy to his brother.

 

Sam sat outside the motel, the DVD in his hand and the newspaper opened up next to him. He quickly wrapped the gift, shook his head, and walked inside. Sam froze in the doorway when he saw what was in front of him.

 

The rickety table in the little kitchenette was covered in a cheap plastic tablecloth that was adorned with little Santas, Christmas trees, and snowmen. There was tiny plastic tree sitting in the center, a couple of ornaments decorating it. Next to it was a plastic Tupperware bowl with eggnog in it and two little cups. And under the tree was a little newspaper wrapped gift.

 

Dean gave Sam a smile that almost reached his eyes. “I know it’s cheesy and with everything going on it may not be right, but I just…” Dean glanced down, his eyes clouding over with tears. He blinked a couple of times before looking back up. “I didn’t want to forget this year.”

 

Sam smiled, his eyes misting over, and he pulled the paper wrap gift from behind his back. “Neither did I.” Dean chuckled, a genuine chuckle, and offered Sam some eggnog.

 

They drank a little, said a cheer to the new year, and then sat down to exchange gifts. Dean went first and his eyes grew wide as saucers when he saw the DVD. “Awesome!” He looked genuinely happy as he looked at the back of the DVD.

 

Sam opened his gift next. It was a small little package and he wondered if maybe it was some scratchers or granola bars. But when he opened it he was shocked by what he saw. Dean gestured toward the gift in his hand. “I know it’s cheesy as hell and not as nice as the one you gave me, but I thought you might like it.” Sam held a little necklace in his hand, a black leather chord adorned with a silver dragonfly. Sam was speechless as he turned it over in his hands. “It’s supposed to bring good luck.” Dean looked down at his hands. “And god knows we need some of that.”

 

Sam blinked back some tears and grinned at Dean. “I love it.” Dean beamed at him and Sam slipped the necklace on.  

 

They spent the rest of the evening watching _Dr. Sexy_ on Sam’s laptop, drinking eggnog, and laughing. And Sam thought that maybe, just maybe, they could weather this storm and come out somewhat whole on the other side.

 

When they got back to the bunker, Sam pulled out his little keepsake box, moved a few things around, and placed the used paper inside, along with the tag that was on the necklace. He grinned to himself, his eyes looking over the rest of the contents briefly, before he pushed the box back under the bed.

 

He sat back, his fingers touching the dragonfly. This was one item that would not finds its way into that box. No, this would stay around his neck; always.

  


 


End file.
